Factory: "Pilot"
Spike TV's first original sitcom Factory is about four working-class guys who talk a lot about sex, but otherwise there's not much about the show that marks it as especially Spike-ish. It's a very low-key kind of comedy, built around semi-improvised chatter and subtle character distinctions. It has more in common with something like Corner Gas than with MXC.
The main problem with Factory's first episode–airing tonight at 10 PM eastern, and also available for free right now on iTunes and at the Spike website–is that while it has an amiable tone, it's never laugh-out-loud funny. The show's premise is simple: four small-town factory workers (played by improv vets Mitch Rouse, David Pasquesi, Jay Leggett and Michael Coleman) strive to minimize their work time and maximize their coffee breaks, so they can gripe about their wives and ex-wives and their go-nowhere occupation. None of these characters really feel like factory workers, nor does the comedy seem rooted in anything real. They all talk like stand-up comedians, gathering after a show to swap stories about who's the most pathetic.
The pilot episode establishes their loser bona fides by giving all four characters the chance to become the supervisor for their shift, after the former supervisor dies when his tie gets caught in a machine. After some indifferent jockeying for position–nothing that would qualify as a plot, or even a "situation"–they all decide that being charge would entail too much responsibility, and cut into their sit-around-and-talk time.
I think I laughed about twice during the first Factory: once when Rouse shoots back at an insult from one of his friends by grunting, "I'm a dick? You're my sack!" and once when a white lie about a sexually charged encounter grows into an elaborate softcore scenario the more the liar repeats the story. Otherwise, I didn't feel like these actors–who are also the show's producers and writers–put much effort into making the show more than merely adequate. In that, they're exactly like their characters.